Breathless
by AppleR3
Summary: Then his spell ends and before Sakura even realises where she is and what has happened, she is crying and she is hurting and she feels Sasuke's strong arms pull her towards him and they cry together, and Sakura thinks that maybe, just maybe, they will be okay.


Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

…

He finds her chained to the wall in a cold, dank cell. He can only just feel the gentle pulsing of her chakra; it is almost non-existent, barely flickering and just enough to keep her conscious. Her hair is matted and caked with blood, holding no resemblance to the soft pastel pink he remembers. There is a cut just above her left eyebrow, and he can barely make out the purplish hues around her left eye in the darkness. Her lip is busted and he is sure her jaw is dislocated. Her skin is pale, blemished and marred with cuts and grazes and bruises, some healing, and others fresh and barely a day old. Some of her fingers are twisted at funny angles, and there is little of what remains of her shinobi uniform. Her green vest torn and shredded and discarded in a corner, her skirt is missing, and she is dressed in only the rags of what had been her dark jounin top and shorts. She is covered in dirt and grime and blood and it takes all of his self-control not to throw up. He takes two steps back and forces bile down his throat before he approaches her.

She physically tenses when she finally registers she is no longer alone, and when she focuses her gaze on him he nearly does a double take. Her once brilliant emerald orbs are glazed over and dull, and the way she struggles to shrink back into herself has his blood boiling. A strangled whimper escapes her, and he is broken out of his reverie of _kill, hurt, kill, hurt_ and it is replaced with _no, no, no, no, Sakura please be okay, no, no, no_ and he instantly wraps her up in his cloak as gently as he is capable, and he runs for Konoha.

This is how his life falls apart. Abandoning an S-class solo mission after a messenger hawk arrives with a messily scrawled _find her,_ blood curling fear and a broken girl in his arms.

 _(Blood slid down the side of her head and arm and soaked her uniform. He smirked in amusement at her defiant stance and the angry crease on her forehead, even though she was clearly in pain and even breathing had to hurt. She wasn't about to go down and let him take her without a fight. Good. Because he liked his women feisty. He liked breaking them, watching as their strength and will to fight slowly leave them and the light fade from their eyes when they realised they couldn't win. And the pupil of the legendary Tsunade would be his biggest trophy yet.)_

…

She is covered in bandages, and the crisp, white sheet over her slumbering form makes her look small and fragile. It is weird to see her in a hospital like this, Sasuke thinks, and knows the woman to his right is thinking it too. They are used to seeing Haruno Sakura in a hospital, leading doctors and saving lives, not in a hospital bed, broken and weak and barely alive.

His grip on the headboard is strong and unforgiving and his knuckles are white and he thinks he feels the wood splinter underneath is touch. His eyes are cold and hard as he listens to Tsunade's report on her condition, _dislocated jaw and shoulder, four broken fingers and six broken ribs and a punctured lung, and…they violated her Sasuke, she was violated, when I find the scum who did this to her I will skin them alive and_ but he stops listening and his mind plays the word _violated_ on repeat and all he can think of is how he will torture the bastard who did this to her and make him relive it a thousand times over with his Tsukuyomi, but his gaze on her never wavers.

"Sasuke." Tsunade's voice breaks him out of his promise of blood and torture and he curses under his breath. He moves to hold her hand underneath the sheets and traces his finger over her engagement ring, and promises Tsunade that this time, he will be the one to look after her.

This is how he will give back to Sakura. He will dry her tears and let her scream, and he will fix her heart and mend her soul, just like she had done for him. He will swallow his thirst for revenge and let the Hokage deal with that, and he will focus on her and only her.

 _(Sakura's chest heaved and her heart pounded as she used the few precious minutes she had gained to refocus and recollect her chakra. The yin seal of her Byakugou glowed a bright purple, throbbing uncomfortably, and deep down, she knew she would not last long alone. She had already used up an extensive amount of chakra healing people at the hospital in the village that morning. Tears stung at her eyes. She had been stupid, careless, to think that after two weeks without movement, he had lost track of her. But she couldn't, wouldn't die here._

 _He swiped at her with his mace, narrowly missing her right ear, and she pirouetted around it. Bright green chakra flared furiously as she drew her fist back, poured every bit of determination into her tightly clenched fist, and launched forward. She just needed to hit him once. Just one hit.)_

…

One week later, his breath catches in his throat as he watches the slow flutter of eyelashes against cheeks. Once, twice, before she finally opens her eyes. They are not the dazzling emerald he remembers. The monitors start beeping erratically and Sasuke watches as Sakura sits upright so fast he thinks she might get whiplash, fingers clenching and unclenching the bedsheets as she takes in her surroundings. Her breathing is uneven and she is struggling to breathe and Sasuke isn't sure if he is allowed to touch her but he does anyway, pulling her into his arms and rubbing soothing circles on her back, and there are whispers of _I'm here, Sakura, I'm here_ and he feels his heart break just a little more than he thought possible when he feels his shirt dampen with tears.

This is how her world falls apart. Memories of _please no, please no, don't touch me, don't touch me_ and blood and pain and _I'm_ sorry _Sasuke, I'm so, so sorry._ Then there are screams and tears and _leave me alone_ but she really means _please don't leave me_.

 _(His coarse tongue licked at her skin, fingers curled in her hair. Every time Sakura closed her eyes he bashed her head backwards onto the concrete, demanding she open them, until blood ran from the back of her head onto the ground and her head lolled like a doll.)_

…

Two weeks later and she is finally discharged from Tsunade's care, but she doesn't go back to _their_ home. Instead, she chooses to move back home with her parents, she is placed on indefinite leave and she returns her engagement ring.

Right now, she is no longer Haruno Sakura, a new generation of the legendary sannin, she is no longer Haruno Sakura, Tsunade's famed disciple. She is no longer Haruno Sakura, Konoha's renowned kunoichi and head medic, she is no longer Haruno Sakura of Team 7 and she is no longer Haruno Sakura, engaged to Uchiha Sasuke.

Right now, all she has are memories that haunt her every minute of the day and the feel of _his_ hands on her body and the weight of her failure. Her botched mission had cost Konoha the blueprints of a village on the fringes of Sound they believed were conspiring against them, it had cost her dignity and honour and reputation and it had cost Sasuke his happiness.

Because of her, the Hokage, Uzumaki Naruto, had abandoned his own code for peace and ordered a manhunt for the person who had hurt her, blaming himself for sending her on _that_ mission. Because of her incapability, everything she had worked so hard for and her success this far meant nothing and her shishou's reputation is tarnished. She hears her parents cry outside her room and in front of her they try too hard to make everything feel normal and she pretends not to notice that they are also broken. Because of her, Sasuke has to go through hurt and rejection and he will have to find someone else to marry because how can he love her now?

This is how she lets her scars define her. She can barely function, she is afraid of sleeping because when she closes her eyes, all she sees is blood and all she hears are the sounds of her bones breaking and fabric tearing and her own screams and all she feels are his hands on her. There are bags underneath her eyes and there is a tightness in her chest that refuses to leave. Her heart beats too fast and sometimes she can barely breathe. Her thoughts are racing too fast and she is afraid of what the next minute will bring.

This is how Sasuke's resolve strengthens. He visits her every day with a single daffodil. There are bad days, when Sakura doesn't eat and sleep and talk, when she stares out the window and even though there are no words and no sounds, she is crying. Sometimes she doesn't let him in and screams and cries until he leaves the room, and when he stands outside the door, hands clutching his heart, there is the sound of _Sasuke-kun, Sasuke-kun, Sasuke-kun_ and the cries of a broken girl. But there are also good days, when Sakura gets a couple of hours of sleep and she is peaceful enough to let him brush her hair out of her face, when she accepts the daffodil he brings and stares at it and loses herself in the happier days they've had together, and looks at him so earnestly and full of _love_ and allows herself to say _thank you, Sasuke-kun._ These one in a million good days are enough to remind him that the Sakura he fell in love with, the Sakura that was strong and beautiful and resilient is still in there somewhere, and he vows to make her laugh again.

 _(A sudden gush of pain jolted through Sakura's body. Her stomach ached, her arms lost tension and her legs were shaking, weakened from the position he had forced her into. 'He will not break me,' she thought as he finally allowed her knees to drop to the ground, and she stifled a cry of relief. Her tongue was soaked in the taste of her own blood. Bruised and winded, she grabbed his foot and pulled him to the ground. Her head was pounding, her vision was blurry and she used what little strength she had left and brought a fist to his face, breaking his nose with a sickening crunch.)_

…

Two months later and Sasuke thinks they are making progress. It is slow, and for every step forward they take two steps backwards, but Sasuke knows that progress is progress and he will take what he can get.

Sakura gets out of bed now, she changes out of her pyjamas and she eats two meals a day and she goes to therapy with Tsunade. He has been attending these sessions with her for a week now, at her request, because _Sasuke-kun, you need to understand why I can't be with you_ but Sasuke tells her "No, Sakura. I will show you why I won't let you leave me."

Sakura doesn't smile, she doesn't laugh and she doesn't dream and hope and Sasuke is scared of _losing_ her. So one day, after therapy with Tsunade, he takes her to _their_ spot. A meadow of flowers lined with lupines and dewy light green grass. The air is cool and crisp and it is so refreshing, a breath of fresh air after everything they have been through and Sasuke feels his heart swell with pride when he catches the small lift of Sakura's lips.

They find a spot and sit and even though Sasuke feels his pants dampen from the grass, he can't find it in himself to care as he watches Sakura lie next to him, eyes staring up at the sky, flushed pink and orange from the waning sun, and for the first time in a long time, he sees something that looks a little like hope and longing in her eyes. Here, away from the hustle and bustle of Konoha, away from curious eyes and gossiping mouths, Sasuke feels humbled and strengthened at the same time, and as he drinks in the expression on Sakura's face, he knows she feels the same. Albeit momentary, this moment of peace is overwhelming.

"Do you _trust_ me?" His question startles her, breaks her out of her reverie, and he smiles as she nods, and even if it is a little hesitant, he does not let it bother him.

He lies next to her, his left arm propping his head up as he stares at her with his mismatched eyes. She tenses a little at his proximity, and with his right hand he gently grabs her chin and tilts her face towards him. _Relax._ "Will you let me show you something?" he murmurs, and feels his heart burst with joy when she nods, this time, a little less hesitant than the first.

The Sharingan comes to life in his right eye, the comas swirling lazily and she is entranced. She had always loved his eyes, and it would seem that even now, she couldn't look away.

He whisks her away to a time so long ago, filled with laughter and smiles. Shows her and lets her feel his love for her, strong and precious and breath-taking. Shows her what she really looks like in his eyes, beautiful and confident and strong and resilient and compassionate and kind. Shows her how she held him when he had nightmares, how she held his hand throughout his long road to recovery, her how happy she had been when he had finally told her he was _okay._ Shows her their first kiss and the way she had smiled, tears spilling down her cheeks when he had asked her to marry him.

Then his spell ends and before Sakura even realises where she is and what has happened, she is crying and she is hurting and she feels Sasuke's strong arms pull her towards him and they cry together, and there are whispers of _you are not alone_ and _I'll always be here_ and _I won't give up on you_ and _this time, I'll wait for you_ and Sakura thinks that maybe, just maybe, _they_ will be okay.

This is how she allows herself to hope. There are flowers and sunsets and green, green grass that remind her of her own eyes. Strong arms and hushed whispers and the intoxicating smell of fire and forest that is so _him_ and memories of a boy and a girl who were _happy_ and _in love_ and she thinks that maybe, with him beside her, she can heal too.

This is how he revels in small victories. The feel of her small body against his, her hands curled into tight little fists in his shirt, the green of her eyes, although hazy with tears, brilliant and dazzling for the first time in a long time.

 _(Purple welts were scattered across her abdomen. It hurt to breathe, she had two broken ribs and deep down, she knew that this was only the beginning.)_

…

It has been eight months. She feels her lower lip begin to tremble and it horrifies her. She is angry and hurt and betrayed, by who she doesn't know, but she is filled to the brim with these emotions. Once she let go of the grief, an anger she never thought she was capable of feeling began building up inside her, threatening to burst at any minute.

So she clings to alcohol.

She isn't Tsunade's pupil for nothing, she thinks one day, as she traces the edge of her glass with her fingers. She downs her glass of sake and feels the familiar burn down her throat, relaxing her and cooling the burning rage resting deep within her. She feels the all too familiar heat rise in her face and she tries to forget. Because everybody needs a coping mechanism, and alcohol, she thinks, is hers.

Sasuke normally turns up a few hours later, angry and disappointed, and while she normally lets him take her home, _not tonight,_ she thinks.

So she makes her way to training ground seven, one she has avoided since her return. Standing in the middle of the training ground brings back memories, a time where she and Sasuke-kun and Naruto were young and naïve and _happy._ And all of a sudden she is hiccupping and crying over memories of a time long gone, crying over memories of what happened and crying over dreams of _what could have beens._ And all of a sudden, all the pent up anger, the bubbling rage and frustration and hurt and betrayal bursts like a dam, and she is forming fists that create craters and smashes boulders and upturns trees.

She thinks of Naruto and how much she hates him for sending her on _that_ mission. She thinks of Kakashi-sensei, because why didn't he train her like he trained Naruto and Sasuke? She thinks of her parents, her _civilian_ parents who let her become a kunoichi. She thinks of Tsunade, because why did her shishou hold back knowledge and strength and power from her? She thinks of Sasuke, because didn't he promise to protect her? Where was he when she screamed for him to _please please please save me Sasuke-kun_? And she thinks of _him,_ because why did he have to hurt her? Why did he have to hit her and break her and _touch_ her and _kill her?_

Her knees buckle and give way beneath her and she finds herself on her knees in one of the many craters she made. Her knuckles are bloodied and bruised and she is crying and haphazardly hitting the ground beneath her, desperate to hurt _something_. The pain in her knuckles is soothing, but it does little to stop the broken sobs escaping her. But even through the haze of tears and anger, she feels his overwhelming, smothering chakra approach her and in the blur of a moment he is in front of her, his cool, strong fingers wrapping firmly around her slender wrist. The heat from his hands send her emotions into overdrive again; grief, exhaustion, anger, frustration and the pain of betrayal, and her hands clench into tight little fists, breaking out of his hold and she lunges. She has never attacked Sasuke before, not since their incident in the Land of Iron many, many years ago, but today, it seems acceptable. Her fists, laden with chakra, draw closer and closer and Sasuke is looking into her eyes, desperate and sincere and so full of love, and she is shaken out of her anger, fists coming to an abrupt stop just before his chest. It remains there, wavering indecisively before her chakra flickers and gradually fades. Her fists slowly relax, and her small fingers clutch onto the front of his shirt.

"Why, Sasuke-kun?" her voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse from all her tears. But as a fresh onslaught of tears arrive, the convulsions in her chest only get worse, each shudder wreaking through her small frame and crushing her very soul. "Wh…why did it happen to me? W…why…?"

Sasuke knows that she is desperately trying to grab hold of any fragment of understanding, an explanation, and for the first time, he admits that he doesn't know _why._

"Sakura." The way her name rolls off his tongue conjures millions of tiny memories in her mind that instantly begins to crack.

"I…I don't know why, you _know_ I can't give you the answers you want." He brings his hands up to cup her cheeks, his movements sure as he wipes her tears away. "But what I do know is that you're strong. You're _strong,_ Sakura. And I will always be here for you, _always._ You… _we,_ are stronger than this."

This is how she allows her walls to break. In between the burning haze of alcohol and satisfying destruction, she finds that _he_ is _always_ there, and one day she wakes up and there is no more lingering bitterness and rage that threatens to bubble over.

This is how he allows her to heal. Drunken stories and angry fists and hot tears. Bleeding knuckles and broken pieces and throughout it all, he is falling in love. Falling in love with her strength and resilience and her flaws and imperfections and her endearing capability to try to heal and be _human._

 _(As he rode out the waves of his release above her, she stared at the wall, eyes dull and tears finding their way down her cheeks and disappearing into her hair and ears. Each thrust sent fiery bursts of pain through her wounds, jarring and brutal and it hurt. Her consciousness ebbed, black mists swirling at the edges of her mind, drawing her into sweet oblivion.)_

…

It has been eleven months since Sasuke found her, and tonight, as they stroll through the festival, he is grateful. The smell of food permeating the air, bright lights and music and laughter and the feel of bodies pushed close together has never felt more welcoming. Because next to him, Sakura is dressed in a simple navy kimono, and she is allowing him to hold her hand, and she is _smiling_ and her eyes are _sparkling_ and he is _grateful._

They visit every single stall at the festival, he buys her okonomiyaki and dango and he plays the games and wins her toys and at the end of the night, he is exhausted. As they sit side by side while the fireworks go off, Sasuke thinks that this is how Sakura should look like every day. She is watching the fireworks with childlike interest, eyes wide and excited and _happy._ She is smiling and laughing and when she turns to look at him, she takes his breath away. Because this is the _Sakura_ that he has been waiting for, this is the _Sakura_ he was afraid of losing and this is the _Sakura_ he didn't give up on. And then Sasuke is smiling and he is laughing and there is wonder in Sakura's eyes and suddenly he feels her lips against his, soft and unsure and he is _grateful._

He brings his hands below her ears, thumbs caressing her cheek, their breaths mingling before he slowly, inexorably responds, and he feels Sakura sigh into the kiss. He kisses her, and the world is falling away. It is slow and soft and comforting, in a way that words could never be. There are no fireworks or sparks, but there is a wave of warmth that fills her up, spilling out from her heart and the warmth of his lips, rushing to every corner of her body until every inch of her is saturated with love. After what feels like a lifetime, they pull apart, their breaths shaky and shallow. He leans in, his forehead resting against hers, and closes his eyes. Kissing Sakura again after so long had felt so good, so right. He doesn't want the kiss to end, his only desire to touch her and pull her flush against him until he feels her heart beating against his, to make love to her and show her just how much he missed and loved her. He draws back slightly, studying her face. Her face flushes a darker shade of pink under his scrutiny, and he leans in and plants a kiss on her forehead.

This is how she allows herself to be loved. Flowers and chocolate and going on dates. She is smiling and laughing and she is _happy._ He is there on days when her voice is hoarse from yelling and her eyes are puffy from crying, he is there when she feels like she cannot find redemption and her heart feels heavy. He is there when she feels broken and unworthy and weak. He reminds her that she is beautiful and powerful and strong and even in her brokenness, he loves her. And when she lets him into her heart _again_ , she remembers that he is _Sasuke-kun_ and she has always _loved_ him and he makes her laugh one day, bright and cheerful like the daffodils he still brings her and she remembers that he _loves_ her too.

This is how he allows himself to hope. The feel of her hand in his, small and fragile but so _trusting._ The way her smiles reach her eyes and the way her eyes sparkle when she looks at him. The way the green of her eyes are bright and no longer jaded. And the feel of her soft lips against his has him thinking that maybe _one day,_ she will agree to marry him again.

 _(She feels the bone split as he brings his foot down onto her chest, her mind shutting down as she feels a rib puncture her lung. The pain takes her to a place deep inside herself that knows how to cope with the kind of pain she knows precedes death.)_

…

There is fear and _so much_ anger in Sasuke when Sakura squeezes his hand for the umpteenth time. He grits his teeth and forces down a growl as they stare at the man through the tempered glass panel of the interrogation room.

The hunter-nin Naruto had sent out thirteen months ago had finally returned with _him,_ bruised and beaten and barely alive. They watch as Tsunade and Ibiki torture him every way they know how and every few minutes he is screaming, consumed by a pain that knows no end, eyes wide with horror, face chalky and his mouth rigid and open, and when Tsunade heals him he would go quiet, just panting, before the cycle repeats itself.

Sakura is brought out of her wide-eyed stupor when he suddenly starts _laughing,_ eyes wide with something she can't recognize and he turns to look at the glass panel and even though Sakura knows he cannot see her, she feels him _see_ right through to her. He licks his lips and grins. "She was a good fuck. She tried, _so, so hard,_ to fight me."

And then she is screaming and crying and there is a rough "Take her," and she is shoved into Naruto's steady arms and then she sees _Sasuke_ and he is inside with _him_ and he has him by the collar, flat against the table, and his hand draws back into a tight fist and he hits him, again and again and again and again. There is a crazed feral look in Sasuke's eyes, his Sharingan activated and swirling madly and all Sakura can hear are the sounds of bones breaking and him _laughing_ and Sasuke telling him to _shut the fuck up_ and there is so much blood on Sasuke and Sakura cannot stop screaming.

That night, the nightmares start. She wakes up screaming, cheeks wet with tears and her body bathed in cold sweat. The sheets are twisted around her limbs, her heart is pounding against her chest and she cannot catch her breath. Her room is dark, and the remnants of her nightmare still clings to her mind. She cannot see anything except his eyesand all she can hear is his laughter ringing in hear ears, and her chest tightens, trying not to let another breath in. Her breath comes, each one shallower than the last, her lungs unable to move against her suddenly heavy ribs and her mind becomes static, replaying the horrors she fought so hard to forget. And before she knows it she is shouting and crying hysterically, and she is shocked by the sounds escaping her.

And then all of a sudden the curtains are drawn and moonlight bathes the room and she is enveloped in a pair of strong arms, her face pressed tightly into his chest as he runs one hand through her damp hair, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back, and he is whispering words of comfort in her ear. _I'm here. It's okay, you're okay, he can't hurt you anymore. Breathe, Sakura. Take deep breaths for me. I'm here._

This is how she picks up the pieces. Two steps forward, and always one step back. If breaking is hard, recovery is worse. Every piece of who she was before is shattered into a million pieces, lying on the floor and glittering in the sun and it is so _beautiful_ and so _heart breaking_ and she knows she will _never_ be free from _this._ So she holds onto the last shred of normalcy in her life, _Sasuke,_ and she lets him in and he is her _rock._ He calms her overwhelmed mind and shows her that he is _in love_ with her broken pieces and _together,_ they _try_ to _fix_ her.

This is how he helps her rewrite her story. Sitting on sand dunes and watching the late afternoon moon, admiring the waning sun from far across the sky as it sinks tenderly into the horizon. Other days they savour the feel of waves splashing softly against their feet, sky flushed pink with streams of sunlight painting the underbellies of thick heavy clouds. And he tells her she is _not_ defined by her pain, she is _not_ defined by her past, she is _not_ defined by what broke her, and her _future_ is _not_ defined by her _past._

 _(The back of his hand connected with her face, snapping it back with the force of his blow and her head reeled sickeningly as it slammed into the wall. Sharp pain lanced through her head and black dots flashed in front of her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying out when he removed her shorts with one hand, the other driving a knife into her palm, pinning it to the wall.)_

…

Fifteen months later and Sakura's grip on Sasuke's hands tighten with her growing excitement. As their boat slowly glides along, her eyes adjust to the darkness and she gasps when she finally looks up at the ceiling. Millions of luminescent glow worms are hanging by their threads, their glittering formations looking like maps, faces and fantastical shapes against the dark roof of the cave. The intensity of their luminosity varies and flickers and the roof is alive and breathing and Sakura is _in love._ She is stuck in a state of awe-struck amazement, blown away by the surreal celestial experience and while her eyes are transfixed on the ceiling, Sasuke only has eyes for her.

So much of his being is wrapped up in her like they've spilled into one another, like watercolours blending together to create something new entirely. Something deeper than he ever thought possible. And _fuck him,_ he _missed_ her. _Misses_ her. He misses her _so much_. He misses how she used to smile, _really_ smile, without reservations when she saw him, misses her sleepy greetings in the morning. He misses hearing her exhausted voice when she tells him about the patients she saved and the ones she didn't. He misses tangling his hands in her hair when he kissed her. He misses _kissing_ her. He misses feeling her soft, pliable body against his strong, broad one, misses whispering in her ear words that were meant only for her after a night of passion, careful not to break the tranquil silence of the night. He misses the way she would press her body flush against his when she woke up in the middle of the night, wrapping her arms around his waist before melting into him. He misses her scent, her warmth at night. He misses her touch. He misses _everything_ about her.

At the same time, beside missing her terribly, beside yearning for her presence every second of every day, beside wishing he never had to deal with this break in their relationship, Sasuke is _broken._ And he cannot lie to himself any longer, because goddammit, he _needs_ her _love_ to heal. Without warning, he pulls Sakura into a tight embrace, burying his face in her chest, hands fisting into the fabric of her dress. She feels thin, delicate and fragile, nothing like the strong woman he knows she is, and his heart thrums wildly in his chest when her arms wrap around him to pull him closer, one hand grabbing a handful of his hair. He hears the shuddering breath that leaves her lips, and there is no need for him to imagine the way her eyes sparkle even more when they are filled with tears. He has seen the same image enough times to last a lifetime.

"I love you," he whispers brokenly. "I _love_ you, Sakura. I love you so much." His embrace tightens, tears spilling from the corner of his eyes even though he wills them not to, soaking her shirt, and her grip on his hair tightens almost painfully as she buries her face on top of his hair, her small frame shuddering in his arms. "I don't want you to be afraid of me. I love you. God, I love you and I'd give everything for you, but I – I _need_ – I need _you_."

"Sasuke-kun." He feels her begin to pull back and his hold on her tightens, almost desperately, because he is so _afraid_ of losing her. "Sasuke-kun," she tries again, more gently this time, placing her hands over his arms, coaxing him to unwrap them. Once he consents, she cups his face in her palms and gently brushes his tears away. She sniffles, nose red, cheeks flushed and eyelashes wet, and her eyes glassy. So glassy that he can almost see the glow worms reflecting in them. For a long moment, they are both silent, gazes tightly locked as the secret world of glow worms danced and lived around them. And Sasuke hopes that she will find everything she is searching for in him. He hopes she will see how much he adores her, how much he loves her, how much he needs and wants her, no matter what comes their way.

"I love you, Sasuke-kun."

This is how she allows herself to fall. Simply, beautifully letting go of all her inhibitions and fears and doubt. It's not slow and patient, not measured. It is her arms flailing, heart pounding, palms sweating. It is her eyes twinkling, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. Between all the teeny-tiny memories, the laughter, the thousands of little pieces of _them,_ she lets herself completely trip, slip, lose control, and crash into Sasuke's arms.

This is how he allows himself to heal. When he _finally_ allows his walls that have been holding him up, keeping him strong for so long, to collapse. Salty tears and trembling hands. His face a picture of grief, loss, devastation, because he _couldn't, didn't, failed to_ protect her. His grief surging with every expelled breath, all pretence of quiet coping lost, but the feel of her arms, her touch, her embrace, her broken exclamations of love and _he_ is healing too.

…

Twenty six months later, jasmine scented candles hang from naked tree branches and everybody watches with baited breath as she makes her way down the aisle. Dressed in a simple white kimono, the _Uchiha_ emblem stitched onto her back, _pastel_ pink hair curled into delicate waves, green, _green_ eyes bright and sparkling and _smiling,_ and Sasuke thinks that _this,_ this picture of overwhelming happiness, is _Sakura._ And he is powerless to stop the slow upturn of his lips, his smile gradually turning into a big, goofy grin that could rival Naruto's.

"I can't wait to listen to the sound of your sleepy breathing, wondering what you're dreaming of. I can't wait to hear the shower turn on, a simple reminder that you're _here,_ sharing the same space as me. I can't wait to dance around the kitchen with you, hearing you laugh as you reach for the knives while I lean across your body to open the fridge. I can't wait to come home and see you sleeping on the couch, my pillow under your tired cheek or to see you cooking dinner, a plate of tomatoes freshly cut on the kitchen counter waiting for me.

I want the moments that everybody is so quick to take for granted, that people forget and let pass without a second thought. I want the memories we don't always think about, the little, beautiful things that, when I close my eyes, overwhelm me with their simplicity. The real things that make us, _us._

When I thought – when I thought I'd lost _you_ forever, it was the little pieces of us, the anti-climatic, in-between moments that kept me strong. Walking down the street with your hand in mine. Tucking a lock of stray hair behind your ear. Seeing our shoes together by the front door. Waking up to the sound of your alarm. Brushing my teeth next to you, making faces at each other in the mirror. Reading scrolls next to you in bed.

Sakura I _promise_ – I promise to be _yours,_ I promise that you will _always_ have me, I promise that as long I'm around, you will _never_ be forsaken. You will always have a _home_ to come back to."

His words are sure, strong, barely above a whisper, but she hears _everything._ He raises his right hand and lays it slow, palm down, against her cheek. His touch is light and his thumb sweeps across the top of her cheek and a small noise escapes her as she fights the urge to close her eyes. She leans into his touch and suddenly Sasuke is dipping his head and crossing the distance between them, mouth moving against hers, slowly and lazy and the heat of it seeps straight into her heart. They kiss until she feels like her lungs will burst and Sasuke pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, dragging the tip of his nose down the line of her own until their eyes meet.

 _Tadaima, Sasuke-kun._

That night, for the first time since the incident, he makes love to her, relearns the curves of her body, the highways that lead to places that make her breath hitch and her world disappear until all she can see and feel and hear is Sasuke, and Sakura cries. She is crying because there are _no_ fireworks or butterflies in her stomach, but it is _much_ better because it feels just like _coming home_. Like she has finally stopped after a long, long journey, like a cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day, like eating Sasuke's homemade dango on the patio on a balmy night. And when their eyes meet as they _finally_ become _one,_ Sasuke answers just once, between one kiss and the next, quiet and _long_ overdue.

 _Okaeri, Sakura._

This, is how _they_ finally heal. Healing is painful, but it is beautiful. Healing is being numb and dishevelled on the floor when the memories come on too strong. Healing is being careless for a moment and laughing until they can't breathe. Healing is waking up, choking and immobilized from nightmares, a moment of relapse, momentary torture and pinpricks of pain in their chest. Healing is crying because they love too much and they know they will _never_ truly forget. But healing is also learning to love again. It is allowing themselves to crave each other's company, each other's touch, each other's love, and allowing themselves to have it. It is believing, even if just a little, that they will be okay again. It is letting go and moving on, more than once. It is learning to trust again, attempting to let down their walls and be vulnerable to each other. It is being held late at night, legs entangled and the warmth of two bodies that feel like home. It is crying for themselves, it is forgiveness.

….

AN: Thank you for reading! Please review 3


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